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Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

It was probably a bad idea to write a fic about Crowbar struggling with his homosexuality

There's pretty much no way this isn't going to offend somebody

But OH WELL. ArmsAreLoud presents...

S7i7ches

Alright, what the hell is wrong with me.

This homo rainbow bullshit is beneath me. I’m the big boss in town; English never leaves his room, so I gotta run this joint. And I do a damn good job of it, too. Don’t get distracted by nuthin’.

But Stitch… Aw man, Stitch. What a guy. We’ve been friends since we were kids. Always lookin’ out for the rest of us, and with these powers English gave him he can heal us to boot.
Never had more than a platonic thought about the guy. Just like a big brother to me.

But then one day I saw ‘em dancin’ with Snowman’s effigy. And I felt… jealous.

“Uh, S7i7ch, wha7 are you doin’?”

“Oh, uh… This? Hahaha. It’s nuthin, I swear. M9d if I make you promise not to tell anyone? This is kind of embarrassing, and, er… Yeah…”

“I7’s… I7’s fine. Won’7 be 7elling anyone. You can 7rus7 me.”
“Aw, thanks Crowbar, you’re a real pal. Snowman would flip her shit if she found, y’know what I’m sayin’?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I hear ya. See ya la7er, swee7cheeks.”

“Wait, what?”

“Nuthin, never mind.”

Been having a real hard time keeping him out of mind since then. Bah, maybe I should just tell him. Whatever he responds I can deal with.

Later, though. Right now we’ve got company. Slick’s on a rampage and we’ve gotta stop him.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

You know, kmsumrall, I had other things to write today. But it would appear I am a slave to this concept. Oh well, enjoy.

Dry Grublings

They sat about in a circle, each of them in clusters or apart, the room in total silence as though it would be sacrilege to break it after all that time. They were dirty, they were bloody, they were covered in sopor up to their elbows, they were dead on their feet. Naturally, it was Vriska who spoke first.

"Is anyone else glad they don't... remember...?"

"Yeah."

"Pretty much."

"Thinking the same thing, my octo-sister."

Vriska sunk naturally back into the quiet, her eyes wandering about the room. Almost everyone was on the floor, barely awake, save for Kanaya and John, who were still making unbelieving rounds. Terezi was asleep outright, arms wrapped around Karkat's neck and her glasses fallen half off her face. Sollux could simply not get comfortable, adjusting the position of his fingers as though that might help compensate for the rough surface of the floor or the fact that he was setting his back against a table leg. Eridan, who was sitting on a table, and Feferi on the floor not far from him, could not stop looking at the empty aquarium.

John and Kanaya met near Jade and Rose, who had closed Rose's laptop, unable to keep staring at the screen any longer. "So..." Eridan asked John as he passed. "Do you humans...?"

"Well," John said, "We'd cry and... poop a lot."

Away from them, Kanaya's look of mortification grew, and she kept walking as though her next round would provide some new answer entirely. As she walked, she passed Dave and Tavros, who were lazily, hypnotized, staring at the one that lay between wall and floor in between them.

"Do you... uh, think she's got enough sopor?"

"I dunno. How much do you need?"

"Like... to cover you. I don't know. I didn't even know we made it until they started squirting it everywhere."

"Yeah," Dave said. "Someone should have told biology that we've got vats of the stuff in back." Errantly, he brushed at it. Like wax paper, but with a disturbing tinge of Trollflesh. For the dozenth time he lowered his shades to get a better look, but had to squint as it has hardened, darkened and become more opaque over time. Still, he could barely make her out: the tiny face of Aradia's grub clone, wrapped in a tight blanket of sopor and held snug and secure in her off-red cocoon.

Nepeta had barely been able to contain her excitement when Tavros' clone had suddenly started to spin his own in the corner by the nursery's litter box she had set up but none of them had ever used. She had woken everyone, even though it was the middle of the night, and the crowd had aggravated the other pupating grubs in no time flat. Soon they were wrestling for spots of no immediately apparent quality or crying, horns battered left and right, sopor belched before the cocoon was ready and the entire day had been one of those days - the messy ones - that parents simply have to suffer to absolutely no reward. Thirty-three hours later, it was over. The room hung with twelve pods glistening-slick, with refuse and debris and sticky strands that had to be cleaned up. They had set up tiny hammocks out of tablecloth underneath even the most securely attached raised cocoon. Nepeta's clone had started a false pod, whatever that meant, and Sollux's had not gone dormant for another two hours after sealing himself in, but now it was quiet. The cocoons began to harden and dry, and the only sound in the room was the slow breathing of their adopted lusus group.

Terezi, stirring from all the conversation, reached an arm over across Karkat's chest to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her in turn, looking half ready to fall asleep, cheek pressed against her hair. No one in the room, however, looked more blasted from lack of sleep than Nepeta, who had been up for hours even before the day's excitement had begun, and she was still sitting up bolt straight. All that time spent tending to the grubs in "her" nursery had wired her wrong for sleep, and it was Equius that lay in her lap, no matter how dark the bags under her eyes became. It was he who spoke next, after the pause had grown unbearable.

"I..." he stammered, his hands grasping at the air before him and his tone warbling, almost as though he were not sure if he wanted to be heard by everyone or just Nepeta. "...miss them."

An awkward murmur spread through the crowd, acknowledgement, agreement, exhaustion. Kanaya began to wring her wrists, stepped back and sat on the floor, unlike all the others facing the wall. The wall she had selected held a full six of the cocoons: bright red, teal, a blue, an indigo, both greens, and she stared up at it with all the worry and Gamzee reached out and brushed the top of her foot.

"What do..." she started. "What do young Trolls even eat?"

"Haha, fuck if I know."

"...All right," Dave said, taking to his feet. "I can't take this any more. I'm going to watch a movie, and for once it won't be one of your stupid movies, or one of your stupid movies."

"Hey, man, my movies are cool."

"Strider, if you badmouth my films, I will turn your world upside-down so fast that--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dave raised a finger for silence. "Okay now, anyone who wants to come with me: we are watching Batman. There will be good ones, there will be bad ones. There will be awful romantic subplots and there will be psychopaths and vigilantes."

Dave waved them out, and one by one they all took to their feet and filed out. Within an hour, every single one of them would be asleep at the feet of Jack Nicholson, draped over one another in a puzzle that would take five minutes to untangle the next morning. Meanwhile the nursery grew ever more still, the grubs lay in dormant sopor-sleep, suspended in a silent spot, tenderly and briefly between life and life.

I figured given the mood on the forums that this would be better off with a tone of silent reflection and even resurrection. How'd that go over in your opinions?

That said, you might notice I ironically didn't mention prime!Aradia. That's mostly because I'm not sure what's going to happen to her after that whole exploding thing. I'm actually sure she's fine, I just don't know if that's robot-fine, ghost-fine or dare I dream, somehow-alive-fine. With HiHH I feel fine continuing where I started but now it's become a sticking point. Oh well.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

It was probably a bad idea to write a fic about Crowbar struggling with his homosexuality

There's pretty much no way this isn't going to offend somebody

But OH WELL. ArmsAreLoud presents...

S7i7ches

Alright, what the hell is wrong with me.

This homo rainbow bullshit is beneath me. I’m the big boss in town; English never leaves his room, so I gotta run this joint. And I do a damn good job of it, too. Don’t get distracted by nuthin’.

But Stitch… Aw man, Stitch. What a guy. We’ve been friends since we were kids. Always lookin’ out for the rest of us, and with these powers English gave him he can heal us to boot.
Never had more than a platonic thought about the guy. Just like a big brother to me.

But then one day I saw ‘em dancin’ with Snowman’s effigy. And I felt… jealous.

“Uh, S7i7ch, wha7 are you doin’?”

“Oh, uh… This? Hahaha. It’s nuthin, I swear. M9d if I make you promise not to tell anyone? This is kind of embarrassing, and, er… Yeah…”

“I7’s… I7’s fine. Won’7 be 7elling anyone. You can 7rus7 me.”
“Aw, thanks Crowbar, you’re a real pal. Snowman would flip her shit if she found, y’know what I’m sayin’?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I hear ya. See ya la7er, swee7cheeks.”

“Wait, what?”

“Nuthin, never mind.”

Been having a real hard time keeping him out of mind since then. Bah, maybe I should just tell him. Whatever he responds I can deal with.

Later, though. Right now we’ve got company. Slick’s on a rampage and we’ve gotta stop him.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

Originally Posted by SkaianRedeemer

You know, kmsumrall, I had other things to write today. But it would appear I am a slave to this concept. Oh well, enjoy.

Dry Grublings

They sat about in a circle, each of them in clusters or apart, the room in total silence as though it would be sacrilege to break it after all that time. They were dirty, they were bloody, they were covered in sopor up to their elbows, they were dead on their feet. Naturally, it was Vriska who spoke first.

"Is anyone else glad they don't... remember...?"

"Yeah."

"Pretty much."

"Thinking the same thing, my octo-sister."

Vriska sunk naturally back into the quiet, her eyes wandering about the room. Almost everyone was on the floor, barely awake, save for Kanaya and John, who were still making unbelieving rounds. Terezi was asleep outright, arms wrapped around Karkat's neck and her glasses fallen half off her face. Sollux could simply not get comfortable, adjusting the position of his fingers as though that might help compensate for the rough surface of the floor or the fact that he was setting his back against a table leg. Eridan, who was sitting on a table, and Feferi on the floor not far from him, could not stop looking at the empty aquarium.

John and Kanaya met near Jade and Rose, who had closed Rose's laptop, unable to keep staring at the screen any longer. "So..." Eridan asked John as he passed. "Do you humans...?"

"Well," John said, "We'd cry and... poop a lot."

Away from them, Kanaya's look of mortification grew, and she kept walking as though her next round would provide some new answer entirely. As she walked, she passed Dave and Tavros, who were lazily, hypnotized, staring at the one that lay between wall and floor in between them.

"Do you... uh, think she's got enough sopor?"

"I dunno. How much do you need?"

"Like... to cover you. I don't know. I didn't even know we made it until they started squirting it everywhere."

"Yeah," Dave said. "Someone should have told biology that we've got vats of the stuff in back." Errantly, he brushed at it. Like wax paper, but with a disturbing tinge of Trollflesh. For the dozenth time he lowered his shades to get a better look, but had to squint as it has hardened, darkened and become more opaque over time. Still, he could barely make her out: the tiny face of Aradia's grub clone, wrapped in a tight blanket of sopor and held snug and secure in her off-red cocoon.

Nepeta had barely been able to contain her excitement when Tavros' clone had suddenly started to spin his own in the corner by the nursery's litter box she had set up but none of them had ever used. She had woken everyone, even though it was the middle of the night, and the crowd had aggravated the other pupating grubs in no time flat. Soon they were wrestling for spots of no immediately apparent quality or crying, horns battered left and right, sopor belched before the cocoon was ready and the entire day had been one of those days - the messy ones - that parents simply have to suffer to absolutely no reward. Thirty-three hours later, it was over. The room hung with twelve pods glistening-slick, with refuse and debris and sticky strands that had to be cleaned up. They had set up tiny hammocks out of tablecloth underneath even the most securely attached raised cocoon. Nepeta's clone had started a false pod, whatever that meant, and Sollux's had not gone dormant for another two hours after sealing himself in, but now it was quiet. The cocoons began to harden and dry, and the only sound in the room was the slow breathing of their adopted lusus group.

Terezi, stirring from all the conversation, reached an arm over across Karkat's chest to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her in turn, looking half ready to fall asleep, cheek pressed against her hair. No one in the room, however, looked more blasted from lack of sleep than Nepeta, who had been up for hours even before the day's excitement had begun, and she was still sitting up bolt straight. All that time spent tending to the grubs in "her" nursery had wired her wrong for sleep, and it was Equius that lay in her lap, no matter how dark the bags under her eyes became. It was he who spoke next, after the pause had grown unbearable.

"I..." he stammered, his hands grasping at the air before him and his tone warbling, almost as though he were not sure if he wanted to be heard by everyone or just Nepeta. "...miss them."

An awkward murmur spread through the crowd, acknowledgement, agreement, exhaustion. Kanaya began to wring her wrists, stepped back and sat on the floor, unlike all the others facing the wall. The wall she had selected held a full six of the cocoons: bright red, teal, a blue, an indigo, both greens, and she stared up at it with all the worry and Gamzee reached out and brushed the top of her foot.

"What do..." she started. "What do young Trolls even eat?"

"Haha, fuck if I know."

"...All right," Dave said, taking to his feet. "I can't take this any more. I'm going to watch a movie, and for once it won't be one of your stupid movies, or one of your stupid movies."

"Hey, man, my movies are cool."

"Strider, if you badmouth my films, I will turn your world upside-down so fast that--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Dave raised a finger for silence. "Okay now, anyone who wants to come with me: we are watching Batman. There will be good ones, there will be bad ones. There will be awful romantic subplots and there will be psychopaths and vigilantes."

Dave waved them out, and one by one they all took to their feet and filed out. Within an hour, every single one of them would be asleep at the feet of Jack Nicholson, draped over one another in a puzzle that would take five minutes to untangle the next morning. Meanwhile the nursery grew ever more still, the grubs lay in dormant sopor-sleep, suspended in a silent spot, tenderly and briefly between life and life.

I figured given the mood on the forums that this would be better off with a tone of silent reflection and even resurrection. How'd that go over in your opinions?

That said, you might notice I ironically didn't mention prime!Aradia. That's mostly because I'm not sure what's going to happen to her after that whole exploding thing. I'm actually sure she's fine, I just don't know if that's robot-fine, ghost-fine or dare I dream, somehow-alive-fine. With HiHH I feel fine continuing where I started but now it's become a sticking point. Oh well.

God I can't stay mad at Noir.
He's just.
He's like when a tiny puppy murders a squirrel and brings the corpse into your house as a present to you and it's wagging its tail and is SO PROUD of itself.
Then it goes into your house, tears your couch apart, and shits on all of your carpets.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

So at the urging of a friend of mine, I'm posting my Hivebent RP tie-in fic here.

Gyroscopes, Part 1

-freneticTinkerer [FT] began trolling scholarlyDescendant [SD]-

FT : Guess who = done with the game?
SD : You?
FT : +
FT : =D
FT : You know what this means.
SD : Yes.
SD : I do.
FT : I have the ProdigyNet forums open in my browser, and I = eagerly awaiting the appearance of a particular thread from a particular person.
SD : I know you are.
SD : You do not have to rub it in like this.
SD : It is rather immature.
FT : Sounds like someone = sore loser.
FT : Don’t tell me you = afraid to admit that you lost to me!
SD : Of course not.
SD : I’m simply too busy right now to waste time on the internet.
SD : I’ll do it later.
FT : But you’re - too busy to talk to me!
FT : So you still have time to make a quick thread telling everyone how I = smarter than you!
FT : We had a deal.
FT : Now honor it!
SD : Fine.
FT : +
FT : =D
SD : There, made it.
SD : “Daurus is a completely retarded wriggler compared to Maiara.”
SD : Happy?
SD : Well?
-freneticTinkerer is now an idle troll!-
SD : Can’t you pay attention long enough to at least respect the fact that I just publicly admitted my intellectual inferiority?
-freneticTinkerer [FT] began trolling scholarlyDescendant [SD]-
FT : +++++++
FT : Nope, I can’t!
FT: Too much to do.
-freneticTinkerer [FT] ceased trolling scholarlyDescendant [SD]-

Maiara pushed off against her desk, then gave it a light kick right before it was out of read, sending her chair rolling backwards and the seat spinning so that she arrived right in front of one of several worktables in her respiteblock. The table was covered in various items, bits and pieces of different machines and devices. A handful of tall paper cups with plastic lids sat near the corner, each one holding a different amount of lukewarm coffee. She grabbed one and took a sip, then made a face and set it back on the table. She repeated this process with each cup, then said, “Wrong table.”

She pushed off against the floor and rolled the chair over to another table, this one much like the first. She tested the coffee, then, finding a cup that was still warm, grabbed a handful of seemingly random items and started soldering them together. She did this for about forty-five seconds, then suddenly stopped and looked up. She frowned.

“Music. I need music.”

Maiara spun the chair around to face the desk, then started rolling over towards it. The computer’s screen had gone dark, so she wiggled the mouse around to wake it up, then opened her media player and started rooting through her albums.

“No…no…no…maybe…no…no…no…hell no, I still need to delete that shit…no…no…a possibility…no…no…no…Oh!”

That last exclamation was caused by her computer suddenly chirping at her to let her know that she had received a new message on Trollian. She checked to see who it was.

-dashingAviator [DA] began trolling freneticTinkerer [FT]-
DA: <\ hey maiara />
DA: <\ how busy are you right now? />
FT: Pretty busy, why?
DA: <\ well, the arrow’s been flashing a few lights at me on the dash for the past week />
DA: <\ so i think you might need to take a look at it />
FT: Which lights = flashing?
DA: <\ the ones on the left-hand side of the console, above the speedometer />
FT: +, you better bring it in for tune-up.
DA: <\ right then />
DA: <\ i’ll be there in about twenty minutes />
FT: Twenty minutes? Where exactly = you?
DA: <\ on route to your hive />
FT: But I just told you that it would need a tune-up.
DA: <\ yeah />
DA: <\ i was already on my way />
FT: Why?
DA: <\ because of the lights />
FT: If you = already on your way, then why did you even bother asking about the lights?
DA: <\ just to give you a heads up in case the reason behind the lights was bad />
DA: <\ give you some time to prepare rather than just showing up and being all />
DA: <\ ‘hey there maiara, my plane needs fixed, thanks’ />
DA: <\ i think we both know how that would go />
FT: …+
DA: <\ so have you made anything really interesting lately? />
FT: +, I’ve made a whole bunch of stuff. A levitating pencil sharpener, a chocolate gun, and a new game.
DA: <\ chocolate gun? how does that work? />
FT: You point it at something and pull the trigger, which sends a bullet of melted chocolate at it, when it impacts the object, it splatters and, thanks to the special cohesion the chocolate I use has, wraps around it without splattering or separating into chunks on the object.
DA: <\ cool />
DA: <\ so does it make instant chocolate pretzels? />
DA: <\ just point and shoot? />
FT: I did – think of making chocolate pretzels with it. Rather, I wanted to make a nonlethal weapon with edible ammo. Such a thing could = incredibly useful for the army.
FT: I think I will try that out.
FT: Be right back.
DA: <\ wait, how would chocolate bullets be an effective weapon? />
-freneticTinkerer is now away!-

Maiara spun the chair around and practically jumped out of it. She made for her respiteblock’s door and went out and down the stairs, all but running down them. Chocolate pretzels! She hadn’t even considered the possibility before. She had been sitting on a way to make one of the most expensive Alternian treats and didn’t know it! If she weren’t in such a rush to try pretzel-making out, she’d have slapped herself for being so stupid.

She skidded around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and dashed through the living room and into the kitchen. She threw open the cupboard and started digging through it, tossing aside whatever items were between her and the bag of almost-stale pretzels left over from Conran’s last grocery drop-off. Once she had the bag in hand, she tossed it onto the counter and then started digging for a pan in another cupboard. Once she had the pan in hand, she put it on the counter. She ripped the bag open and dumped a handful of pretzels onto the pan and then spread them out, taking care to space them evenly. She didn’t want to mess up chocolate pretzels! That would practically be sacrilege.

The pretzels set up and ready to be chocolate-ized, she reached into her sylladex for the gun, and…it wasn’t there. Damn. She must have left it on one of the worktables. She turned around on her heel and ran out the kitchen, through the living room, and back up the stairs. Once she was back in her respiteblock, she started scanning the tables for the chocolate gun. Ah, there it was, on the third table. She scooped it up and then ran back down to the kitchen. Wait. She stopped in her tracks. There was something in the living room. She backed up slowly.

A well-dressed troll was sitting in the chair that faced the door. His hair was slicked back and held in place with a liberal application of grease. His horns curved slightly forward, and the left possessed a slight hook on the end. He wore a monocle over his right eye, and his face bore a serious expression that never changed.

Maiara could feel her chest start to tighten up and her legs start to tingle. The intruder stood up and started to walk towards her.

“I was wondering if you were going to notice I was here,” he rasped.

Maiara shrieked and raised the chocolate gun and started pressing the trigger. Dark brown blobs shot out of the gun and onto the troll, splattering his face and clothes with incredibly hot but rapidly-cooled chocolate. He frowned exactly once, when the first bullet splattered across his cheek, before his face returned to its usual mask of seriousness.

She kept pulling the trigger until the weapon was out of its delicious ammo and kept pulling it, despite the gun letting out only tiny clicks. The intruder stepped forward and took the gun lightly in his hand and took it from her.

“Settle down,” he said in his rasping voice. “I’m not here to-”

She shrieked again and started pummeling him. He made half-hearted attempts to block her punches. Maiara was dimly aware of the fact that he was saying something, but she couldn’t tell what it was he was trying to say. All she knew was that she wasn’t letting herself be killed without some kind of fight. She was aware of time passing, that he eventually stopped talking and focused more on blocking her punches, that her throat was getting hoarse from screaming.

And then she felt arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her away from the intruder. She tried to scream again, but her throat was too raw to let out anything more than a raspy whisper, so she instead tried to wriggle free, slapping at whoever was behind her. The arms loosened for a moment, then one disappeared. She doubled her efforts, only for the arm to return, trying to hold something up to her face. She brought her hand backwards again, with all the force she could muster. She felt her hand hit something bony, something that snapped, a familiar voice giving a brief cry of pain, and then the arms were no longer around her, the thing that had been so close to her face was falling to the floor. She spun around to see who the new assailant was, and it was-

“Conran?” she gasped.

The aviator looked up at her, clutching his nose. He nodded, then gestured towards the item on the ground. It was a small paper bag. Not a blindfold or a chloroformed rag. Maiara stared at it, and slowly became aware of how sore her hands were, how much her throat hurt. And then she suddenly felt rather ill.

“Shit. Conran, I’m sorr-” she snapped her mouth shut and fought back the rising bile. It made her already raw throat burn that much more. “Conran, I’m so- I’m so- I’m sorr-” She snatched the paper bag up off the floor and promptly vomited into it.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

Okay, basically its the "novelization" of an alternate timeline of the RP. One of the characters in the RP is simultaneously from both timelines, the RP's and the Story's. In the Story, the trolls that play Sgrub (called the heb!trolls, since they possess hebrew letters for symbols), well, play Sgrub, while the group of trolls from the RP get meteor'd. In the RP timeline, the heb!trolls get meteor'd (those that didn't die in a previous event referred to as The Burning, which doesn't take place in the Story, it being an Alternate Timeline)

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

Everyone's writings are delicious.

Originally Posted by SkaianRedeemer

That said, you might notice I ironically didn't mention prime!Aradia. That's mostly because I'm not sure what's going to happen to her after that whole exploding thing. I'm actually sure she's fine, I just don't know if that's robot-fine, ghost-fine or dare I dream, somehow-alive-fine. With HiHH I feel fine continuing where I started but now it's become a sticking point. Oh well.

Obviously a new body spontaneously generates inside of her and she bursts forth, like some sort of horrible alien phoenix.
It's so simple, you wonder why you even asked.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

Originally Posted by MrTeebert

Okay, basically its the "novelization" of an alternate timeline of the RP. One of the characters in the RP is simultaneously from both timelines, the RP's and the Story's. In the Story, the trolls that play Sgrub (called the heb!trolls, since they possess hebrew letters for symbols), well, play Sgrub, while the group of trolls from the RP get meteor'd. In the RP timeline, the heb!trolls get meteor'd (those that didn't die in a previous event referred to as The Burning, which doesn't take place in the Story, it being an Alternate Timeline)

tl;dr confusing AU shit

And yet I understood every word.

Originally Posted by He Who Slumbers

Everyone's writings are delicious.

Originally Posted by SkaianRedeemer

That said, you might notice I ironically didn't mention prime!Aradia. That's mostly because I'm not sure what's going to happen to her after that whole exploding thing. I'm actually sure she's fine, I just don't know if that's robot-fine, ghost-fine or dare I dream, somehow-alive-fine. With HiHH I feel fine continuing where I started but now it's become a sticking point. Oh well.

Obviously a new body spontaneously generates inside of her and she bursts forth, like some sort of horrible alien phoenix.
It's so simple, you wonder why you even asked.

Re: MSPA Fanfiction III

Been messing around with the land generator and I came upon an idea. Why not write short, little fics about the people with these titles and lands? So, I clicked until I got one I could work with, and wrote. Got a bit longer than I expected, and romantic stuff that I suck at writing somehow inserted itself.

Land of Carbon and Heat
Guide of Truth

I blink, and there she is. She falls down from the gate and lands elegantly on the roof of my home-turned-Escher-drawing. Ever since our break-up, we talked minimally, and even her being my client player didn’t alleviate that. I can tell she’s feeling awkward as she turns around and forces a smile.

“Rafael! It’s so good to see you!” she says. But she’s lying. She dreaded seeing me, wanted to delay it as long as possible.

“Good to see you too, Christine.” Another lie. I step towards her, and hold out my hand. She complies, and takes it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t break the ice. We go down to my planet’s surface, hand in hand, not speaking a word the whole way. I open the door, and we step out to face the hellish landscape of LOCAH. Lava flows like rivers through the landscape, and the land itself is pure carbon.